Friday, April 30, 2010

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

You can hear Tuesday's footsteps approaching, and you kind of dread it.

All day has been a migration from one tedium to another. Your head flocks with grouses.

When Tuesday opens the door to see you on the couch, the questions will start: What's wrong? Did you have a tough day? Did you drop off that thing? Did you email those people and get that other thing cleared up that was bothering you? How did that meeting thing go? Did you eat something else besides that Rice Krispie Treat thing you had for lunch?

You sink further into the couch. You won't have any answers - at least, not any right ones.

The footsteps reach the landing, the key scratches its way into the lock.

Tuesday appears and closes the door. Tuesday looks pretty bad.

Your own questions flutter up. They are nearly identical to the ones you imagined Tuesday would ask.

The two of you look at each other for a moment. Then Tuesday shuffles over to the couch and sits next to you. You feel Tuesday's head on your shoulder, and the two of you sit not speaking - only the neighborhood sounds filter in through the half open window, and a burst of birds flies away from a tree just outside.

Friday, April 23, 2010

Friday, April 16, 2010

That way I can keep the Comique separate from all my philosophical meanderings.

I will still be cross-posting here, for those who don't wish to complicate their lives any further. But (fingers crossed) I am planning on adding some fun things in the coming months, so I hope you'll give it a visit!

This blog is still up in full force, even if my posts are less frequent. I've discovered having a multitude of blogs is, in fact, quite a bit of work. Perhaps I'll bring them all under one big umbrella one day...but for now, thanks to everyone reading here. There is a lot on the Internet, and it means a great deal that you choose to spend some of your reading time here. I'm very grateful for that.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

You don't know this woman. In fact, you barely even noticed her entrance. It wasn't until you heard her banging on the keyboard of a neighboring computer and snorting out steamy breathes of rage that you sensed her.

The lab was silent before, but now you are in the hissing boiler room of her fit.

You half stop your own business, only to click the mouse every few seconds to camouflage your curiosity. The air is heavy. Every clicky clack or ticky tack on the keyboard fills your heart with dread. The gravity of her fury pulls you in, making everything your fault. You are somehow responsible.

Minutes slog past. Finally, with a grim chuckle, she clicks the mouse. The Poison Pica Letter is dispatched.

Tuesday picks up her stuff and stalks out of the room. You should feel relief, but the burrs of her mood have lodged themselves. Not even a parade of kittenpuppybaby videos will lighten your mood.

It's a little early yet, but in Chicago, at the very hint of temperatures above 40º we are wearing shorts, riding bikes and getting drunk in public. (The getting drunk in public part is not just a Summer thing, but no ice on the sidewalks makes us 8% less likely to fall after the Hour of Power JagerbombSmackdown at the Cubbie Bear.)

So, for us, it might as well be Summer.

Can I just say how much I love Earth, Wind and Fire? First, what a kick ass name. Second, these guys know how to groove. I can't think of a single song of theirs that doesn't make me happy. Instantly.

They are the soundtrack of trotting off to the beach and returning covered in sweat and suntan lotion. They smell like Finesse and Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific. They taste like Zero Bars and Astro Pops. Earth Wind and Fire will never let you be cold again.

WELCOME SUMMER! I know you are not quite ready for my love, but I am totally stalking you on Facebook anyway!